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Ryder
Faucland Juvenile Court
The judge's heavy, wooden gavel fell, bringing with it a loud bang and a haunting sense of finality. Ryder knew exactly what the gavel meant; anyone who'd been locked up the way he was would know. Ryder had officially been sentenced to an indefinite residence at the Red Hill Correctional Institute. Most underage convicts were let out at eighteen, but kids at the Red Hill were usually transferred directly to the adult prisons and served the full sentence for their crimes there. The Red Hill only had around a hundred kids held behind its walls but they were tough as nails and built themselves a strong reputation. No one dared mess with any kids from the Hill. The mentality was that no one cared exactly what they did as long as they were far away from society.
Warden Davis helped Ryder stand up and led him around the back wall of the courtroom. His cuffs clanged loudly as they went out to where the armored car was waiting for them. Davis had a worried crease between her brows and a slight frown on her face. Ryder had met very few people during his time of captivity who sincerely wanted to help people like him, and the warden was definitely one of those people. She got into the back seat of the car beside Ryder, despite protocol and ignoring the driver's strange look, and took his hand, running her thumb over it in circles like a mother might. Ryder had stayed unusually calm all morning and at the courthouse but when the car began to move, he rested his head on her shoulder and let out a small sigh-cry combo.
"You're gonna get through this, just like you are so good at getting through everything else." Her voice was hard yet calming at the same time, like always. Ryder wanted so hard to believe her, but wishing wasn't something he had learned to trust. When hope fails you again and again, you learn to rely more on hard facts and low expectations.
"What's my likelihood of getting out of here before I'm fifty?" Ryder dared ask.
Davis was quiet for a minute. "It's not looking so good right now but I'm talking to the guys up top." Ryder knew Davis well enough to read between the lines; the battle was as good as lost.
The ride from the Faucland court to the Red Hill was long. The black, armored car was hot and the seats were stiff metal but there was a window, through which Ryder could see more scenery than he'd seen in almost a year. He leaned his head against the bulletproof glass and watched the large houses of Cavern Heights as they faded into Faucland's skyscrapers. Faucland broke into the night time district of Dalin, the party hub, and finally the spiral road lined with ominous watchtowers that led the way to the Red Hill Correctional Institute.
The car seamed to fit right in with everything else Ryder could see. Black, black, grey, and a bit of black. Everything looked like a photo from the 1900's, from the school building to the people waiting in front of the dark iron gate. Ryder knew the Hill was a school but he couldn't see anyone under forty anywhere.
Davis stepped out of the car and shut it before Ryder could get out. She signaled for him to wait a minute. He let his head drop against the back of the seat and watched her talk to one of the old men standing in front of the school. He could tell by her posture that she was not happy with whatever he was saying. Her tell was the way her hands were crossed over her chest, as if hiding the only feminine part of her would make the men in charge respect her more. It usually worked.
Finally, after a few minutes of angry gestures, Davis opened the door for him and he stepped out into the daylight. A guard came to unlock the chain connecting Ryder to the roof of the car and let him toward the school's gate. He pushed Ryder, causing him to trip over his shackles and hit the ground, mouth cutting on a sharp rock. The metallic taste of warm blood hit his tongue and he fought back various memories. Inhale. Exhale. Repeat.
"Hey! Watch it!" Davis yelled to the guard, who was hiding a wicked sneer. Inhale. Exhale. Repeat. Ryder didn't make a sound, wiped his bleeding lip on the side of his white t-shirt, and kept on walking. The iron chains felt heavier than the extremely depressing atmosphere of the school grounds. Davis put her dark hand on his shoulder but Ryder barely noticed it. He was thinking ahead because that's what he did. He planned. The guard wasn't going to be the only one who was going to test him while he was at the Hill. He was stuck where he was and he was done with sucking it up and taking the pain like he always did. Even though he couldn't leave his situation, he wasn't going to be knocked around. Ryder was not going to be anyone's punching bag. Not again. He straightened his shoulders and shrugged off Davis' hand; he didn't need a guardian anymore. The other warden didn't want to let her into the campus anyway, so she was left by the gate.
The second they stepped out of Davis' view, the same guard shoved him again but he didn't fall this time. Ryder twisted quickly and was able to pin the guard against the wall. He pushed on the guards neck. Ryder forced himself to not focus his attention the purple growing in the guards cheeks and the fading light in the other man's eyes. Inhale. Exhale. Repeat. The guard only struggled for about a minute before Ryder heard yelling and the telltale hiss of a taser. He felt the buzzing shock against his back and everything faded to dark, calming black.
YOU ARE READING
The Red Hill
Short Story*I've been writing these stories during class and decided to try to share them. Enjoy my unedited series of mini-stories* Ryder wasn't supposed to be imprisoned in the first place and his transfer to the Red Hill just made no sense. He was on the pa...
